Honor Among Wolves
by ThresherC88
Summary: Apollyon is dead. However, her passing has ignited the spark of war between the knights, vikings, and samurai. The wolves of her envisioned world have come out to play, each with a destiny of their own. Who will reign supreme? Or perhaps... is peace truly impossible? The gears of time have begun to turn, and only fate will dictate the future of these lands.


_Peace?_

A lone Blackstone knight crouched next to Apollyon's fresh corpse, examining the bloodied scars adorning her once proud image. Far in the distance, he knew the rest of his comrades were being slaughtered by the allied Legions, as well as the Dawn Empire. He cracked a smirk, waiting to hear a special noise.

 _So… what happens now? You all just go home?_

For a brief moment, he flipped up the terrific visor of her rusty helmet and examined her facial features. Beautiful, he thought she was, before solemnly flipping the faceplate down and locking it into place.

 _You came into my home… and you brought your armies… what did you think would happen? Peace?_

A deep, bellowing horn resounded throughout the perimeter of the Shard as if Gabriel himself had initiated the Revelations. The Warborn had arrived.

 _That isn't how the world works._

The knight stood back up and peered over the wall, watching as a horrific flood of vikings swarmed into the fray. Within seconds, the three forces were engaging in furious, hatred-ridden combat. The knight chuckled.

"Well done, master."

 _Don't speak to me of your virtues. Duty… kinship… honor._

The thumping of footsteps could be heard behind him; the knight turned around to see a small group of surviving Blackstones, bloodied and exhausted.

"Sir, we don't have enough men to hold this tower! We'll be overrun in minutes!" The highest among them spouted out in worry between breaths.

"Excellent. That was the plan. _Her_ plan, anyways," The knight spoke in a confident chuckle, stepping towards them and counting their numbers. Fifteen remained. They would do.

"Wha… she…" The other knight muttered, dumbfounded. He wasn't very attentive, as the elder Blackstone could tell as he walked a short distance past them.

"If you'd prefer to live, I suggest you come with me. Bring her, too." The knight called out to the group, drawing his longsword and heading past them. The survivors shared a look of confusion.

 _You've forgotten what you are._

"Sir, the samurai have blocked off the escape tunnels! How do you expect us to escape!?" The second-highest knight in the group asked as the retinue of Blackstones rushed through hallways, ducking near the windows to avoid being hit by arrows. At the back of the group, two grunts hustled with their previous lord's body on their shoulders.

"If you would shut the hell up, you might live long enough to see!" The elder knight shouted back before screams came from above. The entire group darted their gaze upwards to see three shinobi dropping from the ceiling with the intent to murder.

The second-highest fell on his ass, struggling to draw his sword; he was unable to do much as one of the ninja landed on his chest, swinging her sickles downwards. The knight closed his eyes in fear, until the shinobi screamed again. Opening his eyelids, the shinobi had seven inches of steel protruding through her stomach. With a meaty shlik, the blade was ripped from her body. She was kicked to the side, and in clear view the eldest knight stood, satisfied to see that not a single Blackstone lie dead. On the contrary, two other shinobi corpses slumped behind him.

"I know what I'm doing. If you have your doubts, feel free to sit there like a worthless sheep." The higher knight spoke in a clear voice, turning around and continuing the trek through the Shard. The group towed behind him.

 _All I want is for you to admit what you are. All of you._

The Blackstones came to a skidding halt as they reached a larger room; oddly, it was full of horses.

"Mount, now! Drop your master's corpse and I'll drop you!" The highest knight shouted, running over to a wall and stuffing something between the bricks.

The men were unsure of what he was doing whilst they clambered onto the creatures; why have horses down here? This room was a dead end, but none dared question him. It had kept them alive so far.

After the elder knight was finished, he strolled back to the group of horses and mounted the frontmost beast, which was covered in steel armor. The others remained bare.

There was complete silence, save for the ongoing war outside. What were they waiting for? Why was he just sitting there-

 _BOOM_

A massive explosion rang out, sending dust everywhere. The wall that the knight had paused by blew open with ease as the sunlight poured in.

"Forward!" The eldest shouted, slapping the reigns of his mount and blasting ahead through the fire and smoke. The moment he entered the open, time seemed to cease; all around, the three warring factions were fighting tooth and nail. In fact, his horse rammed through a small interaction between a few higher ranking warriors. His eyes met those of a red and yellow warden for merely half a second before he felt time resume.

The Blackstones barged through the warriors, trampling dozens as they charged through a courtyard and eventually to freedom.

Apollyon may have been content with ending her story there, but this particular knight wasn't quite finished. He had known this would happen, and in turn, they would travel to his preordained destination: the scrublands.

 _My Wolves_.


End file.
